Knowing what you don't
by The Savvy Sleuth
Summary: Sometimes you just get that feeling, the sense that you know something yet you cannot for the life of you understand it. It's just there and you act on it, impulsively like some sort of hidden command in your genome. When Clara leaves the Doctor she never could have imagined what was to come from that little 'feeling' that she just knew. Doctor/Clara - T for Tip-toeing the Tulips.
1. Prologue: Knowing

Sometimes you get that feeling, you just know. You just don't know how, better yet, you don't know _why_.

The day that feeling struck Clara she left the Doctor. She left him standing in his TARDIS, parked on the curb across from the Maitlands, with the vague promise of returning. Of course she never did. She didn't answer the door to his excited pounding, ignored his hoots at her upstairs window, and forgot the look of confusion and fear in his eyes.

Clara felt that it was time for something, and yet there was nothing there for her mind to grasp at. It was all a feeling; a sensation that rode up her flesh and sent thrills down her spine. She had to do it alone, the Doctor could wait. For once he could wait and she knew he would, he would wander the continuum until she was ready. And only then would he come back to her, only then would she allow him.

* * *

She'd always liked Hollander.

Despite it being the name of a tool company she still liked it, being one of those things to impress upon her young mind so long ago. So that was his name, a precious name for his precious self. And it fit, so snugly into the weight on her arms, it cloaked him like a tight glove and she knew it belonged there. No doubt. No second-guessing. She caressed the fine strawberry hair riding his crown and bit back a sigh, her little Hollander.

Clara held him close a moment longer before setting the bundle back into his bassinet, not the color of her choice, nor design. But she was wan to throw away shower gifts when it saved her the pains of buying it all herself. Twenty-two and mother to one, who would have guessed? Surely not Clara, surely not the Doctor. How could he have? How could she? It was just… Not possible, this bundle of joy was utterly _impossible_.

She finally released that pent up sigh as the soft breathing of a slumbering infant worked its magic on her shoulders, releasing the built-up tension with realization that this child was alive. And he was hers, all hers. Her own little mystery to explore and discover, to raise and love with everything she could muster, because! She would. She knew she would, she didn't quite know the how or why.

She just knew.

* * *

**AN**: She just knew, but what in the world could she have known?

Short prologue, I've seen a few Doctor/Clara child stories and reading something completely unrelated drew this to mind. I don't _think_ it'll be quite what you guys expect but hopefully that'll blow your minds ;D Enjoy!


	2. Chapter i: Do you see me?

The Doctor was confused. Anger, confusion, and fear were now constant companions in his travels. Could he forgive her? Could he ever forget that impossible woman after all that he suffered to save her life? He wished so desperately for someone to give him an answer but knew that there was none to be had. He already knew what he would and couldn't do concerning Clara, and forgetting was definitely not one of those. Still that did not lessen the blow of her leaving him, without word of good-bye or even a real reason. She just walked out and never came back, ignored him and even moved her place of residence. She gave up the Maitlands to avoid him and that was when he'd stopped trying.

Clara didn't give anything so important just a passing glance, the only excuse would be that she was in danger. But from what! Hadn't he just risked his everything: timeline, life, mind, body, and soul to keep her from just that? What danger could possibly have his impossible girl on the run, what could cause her to run from _him_? Nobody ran from him, none of his companions ran from him in such a manner. They ran with him, not against him. Sometimes yes they would run away from him for purposes pertaining to the mission but never _from him_. Never ever and that just fed the fire in his hearts, driving him to the point beyond madness for an answer he would never have.

The Doctor barked a sharp curse against the cool temple of the console center, curled up against the buttons and levers with his cheek pressed firmly to the shifting engine. The TARDIS hummed soft, sweet nothings into his mind, soothing things that might have helped the pain at one time. Now they only served as an irritation and the Doctor jerked away from her, slipping down and padding toward the halls. He needed to be alone, away from the TARDIS' heart, away from the motherly chiding he knew would come in response to his attitude.

It never mattered what was wrong, she would always come to him in the manner of a matron figure. Wrapping her mental barriers around his anger and kissing him to sleep in the way only a piece of home could.

He didn't need that now, he didn't need to be coddled and groped like a lost child in the rains of London. He needed to be somewhere surrounded by_ her_, surrounded by the one person that honestly made his hearts thunder and his mind complete with her witty retorts and astounding intelligence. He knew better though, he could never go back there; it was forbidden especially for him. It was a territory locked in the TARDIS records and incapable of being recalled for any excuse, not even he could release the chains he'd wrapped around that point in time. So the next best thing was her room, _their _room. It was a place of peace and sanctity where nothing hard and horrible could have reached them.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The library echoed with memories of times long since past, shoes still toppled here and there, books never re-shelved after being tugged down for a read. He even came upon a small tray of melted ice and warm champagne, the bottle untouched and left forgotten in lieu of the book she'd been reading. _Wuthering Heights_, she'd never mentioned having a favorite but he'd found her more often than not reading this book, giggling and even sniffling over it's yellowing pages. He grabbed the novel from its neatly placed spot on the armchair and brushed at the dust collected there. Blowing softly against the bound leather that held the handprints of his lost love, his hearts bled and the Doctor let it drop to the floor.

Everything about this room made him ache like something awful and the Doctor found himself sinking into a familiar armchair, lifting roughened hands to his face to find the hot beginnings of tears on his cheeks.

What was he becoming? He'd honestly thought that after Trenzalore he and Clara would travel the stars and to the ends of the Universe. He imagined they would leave everything behind in a trail of comet dust and moonshine to guide their way. He'd been _expecting_ to live the rest of his life with his crazy, impossible Clara. The woman who barged her way through his boundaries, stole the breath from him in his greatest moments and made him feel like the most brilliant man to ever have lived. She was an enigma that he'd unearthed and deciphered, he knew who and what she was. She was his, his beginning and his end, so where was she?

_What_ made her so special that she could just step out of his TARDIS, his life, and leave him to rot in a vile pit of his own despair and self-loathing? Didn't she know what she'd do to him? What leaving would cause for him? Did she even stop to think about it? Oh he doubted it, he very much doubted it and he doubted that she cared. No, no that wasn't it… Clara always cared, Clara couldn't _not_ care it was a part of her nature. There a reason, and it tore him to pieces knowing that she didn't feel confidant enough to confide in him about it. What did that say about him?

The Doctor jerked up with a small gasp, his neck still tingling where the slanted imprint of fingertips made their impression. It was a feather light waterfall of discomfort and shame that crept into his mind then, starting the slow suffocation of Clara from his thoughts. He didn't come here to think about her he came here to find quiet and comfort in the memory of his wife. Of his beloved River, _oh River_…

* * *

"Holly!"

The young boy gasped and ducked low, tugging at stray, strawberry hairs that might give him away as the 'slap, slap' of footfalls came closer. Every step carried with it an ominous chill, successfully rendering the young child terrified. "Holly come out you! I just wanna talk okay?" He called, his voice deceivingly gentle and meant to trick, because Holly knew. He knew that more than words were stored for him in the angry curl of the older boys fists, they were swinging beside his head now and Holly choked on air. "Hooolly…" He teased, face scrunched up into muted anger as he struggled to hide his true intentions. He should have known better though, he'd been picking on the young boy for so long now no amount of fake smiles and friendly pats would convince him otherwise.

Holly knew, he knew better than to believe. The moment the teen had passed his small crevice Holly was up on his feet, sneakers slipping and sliding on the wet grass as he rushed back toward the school building. A shout of surprise and fury carried after him and he knew there was little time before Ruby caught up. He just had to make it to the school, make it to the school, past the fence and into the yard. Ruby wouldn't touch him past the fence, the teachers would see and they'd know what he'd been up to.

His mother always told him that bullies were only children who were bullied themselves, and that they should be appreciated and cared for. Not pitied, never pitied. Holly didn't pity Ruby and he sure didn't appreciate him either. He was scared and wanted to see Ruby get punished for once, for someone to pick on him and see how he liked it. The best he could manage now was getting him in trouble with the teachers, sent to the principals and maybe suspended for a few days. "Holly!" Ruby screamed, closer, louder, Holly swears he felt the teen's breath on his neck just as he reached the fence line. Small fingers plunging into the wire and struggling frantically to pull it up and out of his way, sliding his slender figure through the hole. Holly took only a moment to glance behind, seeing Ruby clash with the fence, livid and furious, rotund face red as a tomato. He screeched at Holly like something out of a horror film.

Holly stared a moment longer, green eyes flashing and chest tightening in short-lived triumph. Ruby wasn't dumb, and he followed Holly's example, through the fence he came and the youth was off again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Clara knew, she'd always known even if he wouldn't come out and say it. The days of coming home with developing bruises and black eyes, bloody noses and gashes hidden by bandages. He thought he was slick, thought he could hide it from her. But she knew better, and she did nothing. It was necessary for his growth; he needed to learn how to handle things on his own. She wouldn't be around forever and the world- the Universe was brimming with bullies. She knows that he hates her for it, wishes she would act upon her furtive glances and take his being into account. He wishes for her to be the mother of years ago and not the woman that owned him now. But she knows better now. She knows that being his mother is not what she was meant for, and it fills her with so much anger, so much unbidden sorrow that she can never shed.

She gave birth to him, opened her young life for him, and abandoned the Doctor for him. And he would never be hers, not like she had thought. It was eating her alive and it showed. Clara staved off the coming of burning tears in substitution of a small smile. She greeted him like any other day, looking beyond the tissues at his nose and the dark swell against his right eye. She didn't see his pained look, the way he ran his fingers against his scalp and ruffled his hair, how it fell back into his face with a sense of solemnity. She ignored the hurt as she asked about schoolwork instead of his injuries and noticed how that hurt became a hard wall as he replied.

He would do fine. And her job would be done.

* * *

**AN**: DUN DUN DUN. Lana Del Ray does a good cover for this with Summertime Sadness, give it whirl ;3


	3. Chapter ii: Now you don't

There was a tentative rapping at the door and Clara looked up from her business to address it, slipping curiously through the hallway to spy the shadowed figure through the glass. It was a bit 'thicker' than your typical person and her heart pounded just a little harder as her fingers brushed the knob. She needed to open it, if it was who she thought, because it was Clara's fault she was here to start with. It was necessary that she follow through with this operation.

Clara braces herself and opens the door, staring at the hooded figure with tangible uncertainty, hand fidgeting against the doorframe, "Clara Oswald?" Clara winced imperceptibly at the stoic disdain in the womans voice but she figured that she deserved it. She sucked in a breath like she always did, dropped a veil over the coming agony and produced a welcoming smile. "Madame Vastra, I've been waiting for you." She steps back and out of the way, noting briefly that the reptile female had left her wife behind, probably for the better. Jenny was small in stature but Clara was rightfully nervous of her, having seen the things she could do.

"Please, come in, we have much to discuss."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"You haven't aged a day, are you sure you aren't secretly a Time Lord under all of that?" Clara tried casually, leaning over the counter to pour them both a cuppa without bothering to ask. She swept the tea-cups into the living room and offered the lizard woman the one nearest, steam curling away from the herbal contents, promising a fresh brew. The madame gave it a once over, absently accepting the drink and partaking a small sip while her eyes raced around the room. Clara had to swallow a chuckle at the woman's discontent as she sat opposite the alien, coddling her own steaming brew before settling her feet in comfort beneath her.

"You insist that I wear a mask Miss Oswald?" She finally replied, at last letting her eyes fall upon the human woman, judging. "Oh of course not, I mean, as far as I know The Doctor is still the only Time Lord left. You just look-" Clara gestured at her, well, all of her "Stunning, haven't aged a day, as I said." Vastra continued to stare un-moved and un-speaking. It was very unnerving and Clara cleared her throat, draining another mouthful before pursing her lips and moving on. "But that's beside the point, discuss, you- Me." The lizard woman staved off a reply, fingers wrapping even tighter around the warm porcelain in her hands, she would listen. Begrudgingly so.

Clara eyed the mis-placed alien a few moments, deciding whether to strike her with a deluge or simply start off small and work up to the climax. Every instinct in her screamed to retract the need of aide and give some formidable excuse to warrant her being here. Even her eyes faltered as she struggled internally with a decision Clara had been positive she was sure about, a breath escapes her parted lips and she tries to focus. She was going to expose her greatest secret, unhinge upon a subject she had so long protected. It was not easy and the tightness in her chest refused to go away. It was now or never, now or never, now or- "I need your help Vastra, I need anything and everything you can give me. I know- I _know_ you don't have a reason to trust me and frankly, yeah, I'm asking you to look around it because that doesn't matter. None of that stuff does it's all trivial space- space _stuff_ compared to what I'm asking of you,"

She brings a hand to her mouth with a resounding pop, hazel eyes growing wide as her mind shrieked in dismay, '_take it back!_' it said and Clara wished she could. But time was in motion, her plea met by open yet disbelieving ears and she knew that measures would have to be taken to ensure that safety was met. Dropping her hand back to her lap Clara trembled under Vastra's hard gaze, like the child she had suffered for eleven long years. Funny that number, eleven.

"Clara you're rather bold to claim that I do not trust you when in fact, it is simply that I am uncomfortable with you. You are an impossibility you see, no matter what the Doctor claims you are something that should not be here. Yet here you are," She pauses for another draught of tea bringing Clara ever closer to that burning edge of mortal terror "I am curious what you think is so important that you requested my presence from- So long ago, it is quite a trip to be here you know." Clara breathes, heart pounding, is this what Holly felt like? Everyday at school, faced with the knowledge that he will be abused and bullied for being different.

"Holly, holly oh Vastra I don't have much time! Holly!" It was coming, suddenly Clara knew. She knew it like she knew the inner-workings of her mind, she could feel that mechanical churn of gears, that soft buzzing at the base of her skull. It was here, it was time. She had to go- "Vastra take him, take him please!" The boy appeared as he was summoned, slipping quietly down the stairs, two at a time. There was no time for him to be surprised at their visitor, no time for him to be scared for Clara was up from the couch and guiding him to it. "Take him somewhere, somewhere far away from here, another planet! Take him and then contact Jack- You know who I'm talking about, contact Jack and tell him to save himself! Save himself and save the Doctor! Find my son, find him!" The young boy lodged many complaints as his mothers fingers dug into his shoulders, forcing him past the coffee table and into the aliens unsuspecting lap. "_Find him Vastra!_"

Both parties gaped in shock and confusion as Clara exploded into ribbed spires of golden light, the temporal dust shifted a numerous rainbow of colors before fading from existence. It left nothing but a shadow where Clara had once stood, leaving two strangers in awe and fear at what had transpired. Vastra knew not what to think, she'd never encountered such an occurance not even with the Doctor. There was no name on her tongue for the mystery that stared her in the face, only the slowly painful grip of a terrified young boy. Find Jack, find Jack and save her son... Her son. This boy... Was her son? Like a puzzle the pieces fell into place and the lizard queen rose to her feet, prying the boys fingers from her bustle lest he fall.

"Holly was it?" He gasps again, face mussed with running tears and sobs of anguish. Worse, she had not the faintest clue how to take care of children, that was Jenny's area of expertise. In response to her hard stare he nodded hurriedly, small hands searching for something familiar to latch on to. Vastra gave a soft groan and held out a length of satin for the boy as she tried to make sense of Clara's final instructions. So scared, there was so much fear in the eyes that burned in her memory, making the alien flinch back. Did the Doctor know?

"Alright Holly, I suppose you will come with me now, nothing to fear." She looked down at him, so young and fragile, so easy to break. "Do you fear me?" He glanced at her from beneath a head of wavy hair. He nodded again. "Alright then, come along, keep up!"

Vastra moved around the couch, avoiding the shattered porcelain cup and it's contents to reach the door. Holly moved with her, unwilling to let her go should he be alone and that's exactly what he would be. Alone. It was with this in mind that hurried him along, jogging to keep in step with the green woman as she fled through the door, leaving it wide in her wake. Should he close it? Would his mother get angry if he left it? Holly strived to make sense of things as he was led down the street, not a clue as to where they were going. And really he didn't feel like questioning it, he didn't feel much of anything other than a harsh numbness. His thoughts murmuring to him with things that would hopefully comfort the squall of emotions running rampant through his heart.

There was no resistance and for this she was grateful, striding purposefully across the street with brief glances back to be sure he was still there. Something, somewhere at the back of her mind told her that losing him now would make a huge difference in things to come. What things? What was coming? She didn't know, she couldn't know. But she knew.

She knew that keeping Holly safe was the greatest goal in the Universe at that moment.

She just knew.

* * *

**AN:** I really don't like this, at all. I couldn't come up with any worth-while dialogue, oh God you know I tried. Something just isn't matching like I need it to, so here this is so that I can move on. I want to move on. I WILL RE-WRITE THIS AT A LATER DATE SO KEEP TABS. Otherwise enjoy trying to navigate through the utter rubbish that this is- c:


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